She couldn't look at him—she truly couldn't—she would die of heartache because of this man.
Her head lowered, resembling a student who had made a mistake in the presence of a teacher, exhibiting a trace of unease.
Samuel Johnson's gaze steadily rested upon her; she was extremely petite, standing straight only reached his ears, and now as she bowed her head, she appeared even more delicate.
It seemed like a long time since he had looked at her so earnestly.
He thought to himself.
In fact, this was just his illusion; although they hadn't talked these past few days, Amanda Smith was early to rise and late to return, and every time he descended the stairs, he could always see her departing silhouette.
Samuel Johnson felt a mix of indescribable emotions as he asked, "Where did you go last night?"
Amanda Smith was a bit surprised as she looked up at him. From this angle, he was truly perfect. Amanda quickly lowered her eyes: "At Evan's house."
